nail polish
by Ferdinand with Flowers
Summary: sometimes, Link feels love when he touches himself ///Link's relationship of nothing/oot///


There's a strong lingering scent of nail polish in the grand room when Link walks in, long baggy blue robe held tight around a lean body and blond hair dripping with bathwater.

Zelda lays on a bed evidently made for two, fair skinned arms are sinuously fighting the folds of a gown made of lavender silk. Slim, long legs, grow from under the gown, pretty pretty roots to a pretty pretty flower. And suddenly Link feels the blood rush to his groin.

A small dosage of blood though, he hasn't been really aroused since their wedding night.

A brush dipped with lacquer is working hard to shimmer and shine a pale nail. Zelda pays no mind to Link as calloused soles tread across a thick carpet with a soft electrical vibe. She cringes inwardly at his steps until he stares at her from across the soft lavender covers.

She ignores the fatal seconds that pass by with cat green eyes, not paying attention as he stops staring and finally climbs atop the bed.

Link lays on the other side of the bed, over the covers of polyester and cotton, without even taking off his robe. Stares at the ceiling of tile without a thought in his head.

As if he's had one since marriage.

Zelda inserts the brush into a small flask, places the flask atop an adjacent night stand, and slowly begins to blow on an immaculate and precise family of nails.

"Honey, Honey," she whispers seductively in between blows, "Are we finally going to do it this week?"

Link stares at the ceiling, and suddenly he has an idea that dies when Zelda blows spit at her nails. Blue eyes cloud over, and suddenly Link wants to play.

"Going to do what?" his lips move, but there's really no one inside that thick head of his that give them any direction of where the conversation is going. Zelda wrinkles her nose in disgust as she continues to blow, her eyes refuse to look at him and join the stupid little games he's been playing.

"Honey, don't be like that, you know what I'm getting at," She's blowing on her nails, even though they are already dried.

"I'm sorry, but I have to feign ignorance; I have no idea what it is that you are getting at."

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Moron? I want to have S-E-X. I want you to F-U-C-K- me."

"How can you possibly duck someone?" and here Link has to smile as another idea is devoured by the nothingness. Zelda's newly polished nails dig into the soft flesh of her palm. Pretty red marks on a pretty canvas.

"Fuck, Fuck, fuck! How can you confuse a dee with a capitalized eff?" She's still not looking at him, and suddenly she feels self-conscious because she know _he's _not looking at _her, _"You haven't touched me in over a month."

Link just shrugs, and, well, wishes he still had some sort of feeling for the women on the bed. They rushed into the marriage, were expected to by the people.

The clichéd tale of a clichéd knight rescuing a clichéd princess from a clichéd dragon. To add insult to injury, there was even a clichéd tower involved.

Link closes his eyes and names float through his coarse mind.

Saria, who he grew up with, Ruto, who promised with beautiful blue eyes, Malon, whose soul was only experienced for a second or two.

Would any of them be different?

Would any of them be the same?

Would fate condemn their time with this same mundane hell?

And suddenly the ideal of fate is devoured by the bleakness of Zelda's voice.

"What's wrong with you?" Link hears the emptiness in Zelda's voice, weighs it down, and wishes he can never hear it again.

"What do you mean?"

"My court has noticed your erratic behavior, the way you don't apply yourself anymore, the way you seem to endlessly wander around," _the way your eyes lost their blue zeal, the way you stopped saying you loved me, the way you visually cringed the when you touched our wedding night. _

She bites her lips in thought, and suddenly a bleak aimless void swoops down and devours her ideas whole.

She forces her eyes to water, as she finally looks at him.

Pretty. Pale. Eyes still focused on the ceiling of the grand room.

"Will you tell me you love me?" and Link can't bear to look at her. He puts his hand under his head, grabs a soft pillow, and puts it over his face.

She thinks she hears a muffled "No," but she forces herself to think he said "Yes."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Link wakes himself to see if he can touch the nether region of his body.

A revelation stirs in his mind, causes him to smile at his own greif.

He hears Zelda breathing prettily. Time for the shooo-ow.

He gets up, pulls out a blade from under his robe, and holds it over his head.

Master of Evil's Bane, and the blade tastes blood it was never meant to taste.

* * *

disclaimer (This is based on salinger's_ A Perfect Day for Bannafish._ yes, i am so unoriginal, that i had to base a story around someone else's story. you know what, Fuck you_)_  
and  
concrit greatly appreciated


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